Totally Buzzed

by Gale Borger

  “Hmmmm.” She rolled over. Away from Ian.

  Ian flopped on his back and put his hand over his eyes. “I can’t believe this! I guess I have my answer, though.” He looked over at Mag and linked his fingers behind his head. “Well, sweetheart, I’m starving, how about you?”

  Mag did not move.

  “I agree. I’ll make the eggs. Otherwise, my belly will keep me awake.”

  He went into the kitchen and pulled out the frying pan. He scrounged in the freezer and found some ham. He threw it in the microwave to thaw, and poured himself a glass of milk.

  He checked Kitty’s automatic waterer and filled his food bowl. The microwave dinged and he rubbed his hands together. “Aha!”

  Kitty heard the bell and yelled, “Surf’s up!”

  He bowed to Kitty. “Meet Chez Ian at his finest. Take note, Dumb Bird!”

  “Dumb Bird,” Kitty replied.

  Ian chuckled, “Well, at least we agree on something!” He plopped some butter, eggs, and the ham into the frying pan. He splashed a little milk from his glass into the pan, took a swig, and whisked the mixture together with a fork.

  Putting the flame on low, he looked in the fridge. He eyeballed a block of moldy cheese, shrugged, then cut away the green stuff. He grated some in the pan and sprinkled in a pinch of garlic. Grabbing a paper plate, he dumped out half of the concoction and carried it to the breakfast bar. He wiped the remnants of mango off the counter top with a bleach cloth and sat down to eat.

  Ian polished off the eggs and eyed up the leftovers in the pan. He figured he’d leave those for Mag. He put foil over the pan and put the whole thing in the refrigerator. He stood and patted his belly. “Now that’s some fine vittles! And no dishes to wash. That’s my kind of cookin’ too!”

  Ian took his remaining milk with him into the office. He fired up his computer and typed out his report. Opening up a drawer, he grabbed a Snickers Bar and munched on it while he read his notes. His eyes grew heavy and his head began nodding.

  Yawning hugely, Ian shut down his computer. He stretched and yawned again, then stumbled toward the bedroom. Dropping his clothes where he stood, he slid under the covers next to Mag. She mumbled in her sleep and snuggled her butt up against him. He threw an arm around her, inhaled her sweet scent, and tumbled off the face of the earth.

  Six hours later Ian cracked his eyes open. He smiled, stretched, and felt around for Mag. His eyes flew open when he reached out and touched empty space. He shook his head and looked around. Orienting himself, he became aware of two things. One, there were people talking in the other room, and two, Mag’s clothes were still where she left them.

  Ian shot out of bed and into his closet. He grabbed a pair of sweat pants and shoved his legs into them. He was down the hall and in the living room in four strides. The sight that met him made his heart do a ba-da-bump in his chest. Mag sat on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. Kitty sat at her shoulder sharing her popcorn, dropping pieces all over her and the immediate vicinity. She was wearing a pair of his flannel pajama bottoms and his Northland College jersey. She and Kitty were watching The Philadelphia Story on video.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Hey, cowboy, you from around these parts?”

  He ruffled his hair, stretched, and scratched his belly. “Why didn’t you wake me? Did the phone ring?”

  “Yep. Some woman called for you. I told her you’d be verrrry busy for the next fifty years or so. I’m afraid she won’t be calling back.”

  “Won’t you be embarrassed when that woman turns out to be my mom?”

  “Naw, this woman sounded young. She didn’t have a ‘Mom’ voice. You got any stray girlfriends lying about, Plant Boy?”

  “You goof ball! It was probably my sister.”

  She gulped. The popcorn stuck in her throat. “You have a sister? Oh no, it’s coming back to me now. Sister, Shannon. Twenty-five and finishing up vet school at UW Madison, right?”

  Sudden banging on the front door sent Kitty flapping toward the banana tree.

  “Iiian!” Bang, bang, bang, bang! She pounded hard enough to shake the pictures on the wall. “Ian! I know you’re home. Open this door you evil Son of a Gun!”

  “Good thing I never gave her a key,” Ian said as he turned the knob. A whirlwind blew through the front door and swept through the kitchen. She came to a stop next to the sofa. She took in Mag’s attire and her bare feet on the table. She looked at the movie as Jimmy Stewart stumbled drunkenly out of the car at Carey Grant’s carriage house. She took in the popcorn all over the place and turned to Ian. One look at his hair standing on end and her usually perfectly pressed brother dressed only in a pair of sweat pants, and she turned a sweet shade of cotton candy pink.

  “Uh, Ian, this is the weekend I was going to stay here. Remember, no school? Spend the weekend doing the town? Uh, have you changed my plans?” She wiggled her eyebrows and grew more agitated. “Amber and Emily are supposed to meet me here in a couple of hours. Mom told me you were here, but I didn’t believe her. I came in early to see for myself. IAN!” She grabbed his arm, “You have to go.”

  She looked at Mag. “You must be Maggie. Are you going to be my sister? Mom says Ian finally sounds serious. She can not wait to meet you. You guys aren’t staying, are you?”

  Mag laughed. She thought Shannon was adorable. Ian thought she was a pushy pain in the ass. “Shan, we’re just stopping over. We will be gone in an hour or so. We need to get back to White Bass Lake tonight, but I overslept. You’re early, Shannie Girl, but have no fear, Louisa is due any minute to clean up, I’m going to throw some things in a duffel and we are out of here.”

  She smiled–all straight white teeth. “You are the best brother in the world!” She bounced over and kissed him on the cheek. She chuckled and patted Mag on the shoulder. “Fifty years or so, huh?”

  At Mag’s groan she laughed and said, “Don’t worry about it–I thought it was sweet. I like you, Maggie Miller.” She hugged Mag and bounced back out the door to get her luggage.

  A small round woman bustled through the open door. She waved a hanky and said, “Oh, Mister Ian, you are still here. Are you staying?” She looked around. “Do you want me to start now or come back?”

  Ian hugged her. “Louisa, you can begin whenever you want. I’ll be out of your way in a minute. Mag? Are you about ready?” Mag numbly nodded her head. “Good. You just keep those clothes on–you can change when we get to your house. Is that okay with you?”

  Mag nodded again. Ian took off down the hall and Kitty flew after him. “I’ll get our stuff, Mag. You can get rid of the popcorn bowl and find your shoes. Will that be okay?” Mag once again nodded her head.

  Shannon turned to a dazed Mag. “It was great meeting you, Mag. Sorry I’m kicking you out, but we’ve been planning this for weeks.”

  Mag put her shoes on and stood. “No, that’s fine. We probably should have left already anyway.” She yawned.

  Coming back into the room, Ian waggled his eyebrows and winked at Mag. “It has been a real long two days and neither of us has had much sleep.”

  Shannon cringed and held up a hand. “Stop! Too much information! I’ll change the sheets.”

  Mag blushed and tried to correct herself. “No, what I mean is that you don’t have to change the sheets. We didn’t, uh, in the bed…” She turned even redder and looked beseechingly at Ian as he waltzed back into the kitchen.

  Ian grinned at both women. “No, but you might want to change the water in the hot tub!”

  “Oh Ewwwe, you sick jerk! Maggie, how can you stand this knob?”

  Mag made for the front door. “I’ll take that as a rhetorical question and get out of here. Nice meeting you, Shannon.”

  “You, too.”

  Ian set Kitty to flight, and he flapped off into the atrium. The Banana Palm leaves shook when he landed. Ian kissed Shannon on the cheek and headed for the door. He carried an unzipped duffel stuffed full of clothes and his files.

  “S
ee you later, brat. Hey, you get to feed the Kitty–don’t forget, no pizza this time, and tell your friends to either empty their beer glasses or drink out of a can. I don’t want to come home to a drunken bird with pizza breath.”

  “Okay, okay. Kitty food only. Got it. Thanks again for your place!”

  “Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty,” came from the Banana Palm as Ian followed Mag out the door.

  22

  While Ian and Mag were busy falling in love on their way to Milwaukee, I sat staring at the whiteboard in my living room, trying to connect the dots. I decided to check my answering machine, and saw the red light flashing. I punched the message button.

  “Hi Buzz, this is Malcolm. I’m calling on official Coroner business. It’s regarding Carole. I have the results of the autopsy sans the toxicology report. Either call me or stop in when you have time. Thanks.”

  I looked at the date. Shit. He’d called early this morning. I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, punching in Mee-me’s number. He answered and I told him I was coming in. Next I punched in J.J.‘s cell. I got his voice mail and left a message for him to call me.

  I drove to the Coroner’s Office by way of downtown. I noticed my mother’s car at Sal’s–didn’t want her seeing me. She loves to badger Malcolm about who’s in the cold storage. I turned right and went around the block in case she was looking out the window. I noticed Mary’s and Joy’s cars were also in the parking lot. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of mischief Mom and her cronies were stirring up. Dad’s problem, not mine, I reminded myself as I pulled into the medical building’s parking lot.

  Mee-me met me at the door and we went into his office. He sat behind his desk and slid the report across to me. He rearranged his blotter, straightened his pencils and pens, pulled at his tie, and kept glancing at the clock.

  “Malcolm, are you feeling okay this morning?”

  He cleared his throat and fidgeted. He pushed his glasses up his nose and cleared his throat again. “I, uh, nothing, Buzz. Excuse me a minute, take your time.”

  He got up and bolted from the room. I sat there momentarily thinking about how strange it was for Malcolm to just get up and leave like that. It was also strange that he did not ask after Fred.

  I got up to follow him. I opened the door and almost ran into him. “Malcolm, for God’s sake, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  He stared at me for a moment and brushed by me, picking up the autopsy report. He shook it at me. “This, Buzz. This is what’s bothering me; the results. I went over Carole with a fine tooth comb. The bullet killed her, but she had the crap knocked out of her before she was shot.”

  Tongue-in cheek, I teased him. “Is that what the report says in professional terms?”

  “Don’t laugh at me, Buzz. A nice lady like that shouldn’t have to go that way.” He flipped open the report and pointed. “Look here, I found wood chips and bark in her hair where she bled from the back of the skull. I sent Ivan over to check around the trees near your folk’s house. He came back with a log from the woodpile with hair, blood, and broken fingernails that match up to Carole. There were also embedded fibers in the log which initially match her tee shirt in color and type.”

  I looked at the autopsy photos and the log. I felt a little ill and took a cleansing breath. “With the fingernails embedded in the wood, she was probably either scrambling to get away or she picked up the log to fight back.” I again looked down at the pictures. “It looks like they beat the living daylights out of her with that log.”

  Mee-me showed me the police photos. “J.J. actually came up with the theory. I just matched up the wounds. I think he’s right because it looks to me like they shot her by the wood pile when she tried to escape. She was killed over at your Mom and Dad’s, Buzz.”

  I tried not to panic. “I see that. What the heck was she doing over at Mom and Dad’s that night? What does that say about our murderer, and what about the gak under what finger nails she had left?”

  “J.J. had me scrape the nails and I sent that off with the rest of it to the crime lab for DNA testing. I also need to tell you that one of the dead guys from your night out at the Graff’s place had interesting scratch marks on his jaw and chin. I sent a sample of his DNA to the crime lab too. I’m thinking we’re going to get a match.”

  I thought about that piece of information for a minute. “Well, doesn’t that just wrap this murder up all nice and tidy?”

  Malcolm bit his lip and cleared his throat again. “With a pink bow on top. So does that mean this is over?”

  I walked over and placed the file on Mee-me’s desk. I didn’t know how much I should reveal about the drug connection. “Not by a long shot. What bothers me is that there are still so many unanswered questions about this case. I don’t want J.J. to close the book on this, but I’m afraid he doesn’t have enough evidence of a secondary crime to delve further into it, so it’s over. Now I find out that I killed the guy who probably killed her.”

  I ticked off the humiliating points on my fingers. “The victim is dead, the perp is dead, the whole damn thing is dead. When J.J. finds out I killed his defendant, I’m probably dead too.”

  Malcolm bustled over to his desk. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you first. Word has it that J.J. is pretty pissed at you for, um, you know…your midnight rendezvous with your killer amigos and all.”

  He jerked his head toward the cold room where, through the window I could see good old Ivan smiling and nodding at me, pointing to the bad guy he was cutting on.

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “Does everyone know about that? No, don’t tell me. I already know the answer. And what do you mean you wanted me to know first? Didn’t you already show J.J. these results?” Malcolm slowly shook his head, biting his lip and stepping away from me.

  “Oh, shit. Malcolm, I gotta get out of here! You never saw me! Call J.J. and give him the report.” I grabbed my keys off the desk and hustled out of his office. I was jogging down the hall and calling over my shoulder, “Malcolm, call J.J. right away. I don’t want him to think th–” I ran full bodied into a brick wall. I bounced off and looked up at J.J. scowling down at me. In full defensive stance, legs apart, and hands on hips, he blocked my only way out. He took a step forward and I took one back. He stepped toward me again and I retreated.

  He walked me backward until we came even with Malcolm’s office where he grabbed me by the sleeve and dragged me with him. He dumped me in a chair as he stormed behind Malcolm’s desk. He tapped the autopsy report. Very casually, he asked, “So, what’s the Buzz, Buzz? Was anyone going to invite me to this party? And what is it that you don’t want me to think?”

  He pulled his reading glasses out of his pocket and put them on. He looked at me from over the top. “Before you even ask, Jane Knight was behind you when you made that right turn to avoid your mother. She went straight to Sal’s to tell her. I was having coffee at the time and heard you were here. I couldn’t imagine that you and Malcolm were having a tête-à-tête with Fred still in the picture. The only other thing you have in common is the murder, and the autopsy report.” He banged a fist on the desk. “MY autopsy report!” I flinched and Malcolm shrank back and fled down the hall.

  I figured the best defense was a good offense. “I called you and left a message to call me. I wanted you to come with me to read the report. How was I supposed to know you hadn’t seen it?

  “I was in the process of telling Malcolm to call you because I didn’t want you thinking exactly what you are thinking.”

  He stopped reading and again looked at me over the tops of those damn glasses. “And what is it, my darling Buzz that I am thinking?”

  I blinked at the absurd address, and realized J.J. was angrier than I had ever seen him. Oh well, honesty was even better than a good offense. What was he going to do, shoot me? “That I was being low-down, sneaky, and going behind your back. That I somehow coerced Malcolm into letting me see the report first. That I was sneaking off when I ran into you and I
was going to run off half-cocked into some situation out of which you would have to come and rescue my sorry ass.”

  He stared at the ceiling, his steepled fingers tapping on his lip. “Yep, that about sums it up. So what did you and Malcolm find out?”

  I glared at him. He could be so damn annoying! “That it was Colonel Mustard, in the library, with the wrench!”

  He barked out a laugh. “Damn, and here I thought it was going to be the knife. Quit trying to soften me up Buzz. It’s hard to stay mad at you when you do stuff like that.”

  “Not after I tell you that the guy who murdered Carole is probably the same guy I killed out at the greenhouse.”

  I heard J.J. suck in a long breath through his teeth. He pursed his lips and slapped his palms down on Malcolm’s desk. He pushed himself to his feet, shoving Malcolm’s chair against the wall. “Well, I guess that’s it.”

  He picked up the autopsy report and slid it inside his jacket. I jumped to my feet. He walked around the desk and rested his hand on the back of my neck.

  I jumped about a foot in the air and he patted me between the shoulder blades. Absently, he rubbed my neck. “Come on, Buzz, let’s get out of here.”

  Damn, that felt good. No wonder the dogs love it so much. In a daze, I asked, “Mmmm, are you talking to me?”

  He sighed and lightly grabbed the back of my neck. He steered me down the hall. I stumbled going out the door. “No, I’m talking to the mouse in your pocket! Of course I mean you.”

  I grinned and tested the waters. “Am I under arrest now, Officer? Am I going to ride in your big police car now? Are you going to guide my head through the door after you cuff me? Am I going to ride in the back with the puke and the bugs? That’s one sure way to piss me off.”

  He shifted his arm around my shoulders and laughed. “Damn it Buzz, you sure know how to castrate a guy with words, don’t you? I just thought maybe we’d get a cup of coffee or just go to your house so I can yell at you in private and play with the dogs.”